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#thank u for 700 followers?
causenessus · 4 months
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COLD KISSES POLL PART 2 LET'S GO PLEASE PUT UP WITH ME I'M SORRY
i once again call upon my very very rad and cool ice skater readers and the general public everyone's opinion matters !!!! i have new song choices (thank u @eggyrocks & @kitnootkat <3)
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berrycoree · 2 years
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Oc posting tonight how are we feeling gang
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neteyamyawne · 1 year
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Broo what?!
I slept at 6:43 pm with 563 followers and then woke up at 10:30 pm with 700 followers like what?!!! OMG 😯😱
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Thank you so much 😭😭😭 i was truly shocked into happiness, you guys are so amazing 😍💚💚💚💚
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soov-archived · 1 year
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IMPORTANT! MOVING BLOGS
hi guys :)) i finally gained the courage to move blogs and now i’m going to @soov (same user, just a new account). i’ll post the last twelve chapters of wrong room here until i’m done with it, but all other wips + love in tv world will be posted on the new account
the drabbles, fics, and headcanons will stay here in my masterlist (i’ll fix the links soon). if you want to check out any of my works while the links aren’t fixed yet, my tag for my works is #𔒌 ─ cupid’s arrow., and it’s linked to this post!!!!
please, reblog this post if you’ve seen it for boosting!!! <3
tagging some of my moots @haknom @hanniluvi @flwrshee @imhuh @ox1-lovesick @yenqa @redm4ri @sunoksunny @jennaissantes @boyfhee blanked rn HEL
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kinstein-art · 4 months
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this is rlly dumb im sorry but THANK YOU FOR 700 FOLLOWERS!!!! AAAHHH!!!! im so happy that so many people like my art, huge thanks to all of you!!!! to everyone who's been here for a while, thank you for sticking with me - and to all of you who are new, welcome!!!! hope you enjoy!!!
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leaderwonim · 7 months
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7/11 y’all
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keeksandgigz · 7 months
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goodness
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im so flustered sksksks thank u
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donghuamuqing · 2 years
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Mal miwisms year in review :) 🥳❤️
725 posts created (14%), 4,625 posts reblogged (86%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@blackdeathmamba
@bylertruther
@mlchaelwheeler
@s2willbyers
@miwism
I tagged 2,609 of my posts in 2022
#my post - 689 posts
#save - 238 posts
#stranger things - 115 posts
#will byers - 76 posts
#byler - 59 posts
#a stranger world - 27 posts
#for funsies - 19 posts
#ask - 13 posts
#el hopper - 13 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#theyre moving into their own apartment and mikes like ‘jesus will cant u help at all???’ and wills like ‘were you stuck in the upside down?’
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Need an au of end-of-s4 mike going back in time to the beginning of s1 and immediately going ‘holy shit i can save will’ but every time he tries something goes wrong. He tries to make will spend the night but the demogorgon comes and hurts mikes family and will still gets taken. He tries going with will to wills house but they both get taken. Maybe he tries going to the lab first but gets terry ives’d. He cant leave the time loop until he realizes he has to go forward in the story the way it was told and learn that he loves will the way he thought he loved el, and that will has always loved him. Something about how he has to let go of the guilt he undoubtedly holds over how will got taken from his house after his campaign. He learns about love and life and how life happens to you but what matters is what you do with it after
310 notes - Posted August 20, 2022
#4
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See the full post
476 notes - Posted September 11, 2022
#3
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“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”
534 notes - Posted October 15, 2022
#2
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See the full post
549 notes - Posted November 16, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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“She commissioned it, basically.”
1,399 notes - Posted October 15, 2022
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omgjumin · 1 year
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. . . ૪ 700 follower milestone!
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yesterday i was literally at 600 followers, how did it go up a 100 in a day??? hello???
rahhhhh guys thank you so much for 700 followers!!
it feels like i just hit 100 and started my first writing event last month. that's so crazy.
im so tempted to make to another writing event, if you guys would like one!
im thinking it would be similar to the one i had last time but maybe ill change up some prompts or add more
if you guys would like another writing event, let me know by shooting me an ask/message in my inbox or in my comments!
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dwaekkicidal · 4 months
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Lessons
˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,�� pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3
OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.
And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.
His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”
“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.
“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’
“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.
“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”
“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.
“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.
You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds. 
Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.
By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.
“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.
You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”
He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.
“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”
“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull. 
The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”
When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.
As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.
“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.
You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.
“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.
You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.
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Taglist:
@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina
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enh4doll · 6 months
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jungwon audio —˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ::
warnings :: moans, whimpers, panting, some wet sounds
enjoy !!
thank you sm for all the hype u guys give me.. I’m at 700+ followers now..so thank you 🫶 !!
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lewisvinga · 7 months
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truly mothering | max verstappen x fem! reader
summary; news about y/n mysteriously retiring from mercedes shocked the f1 world in the middle of the 2020 season. what shocked them even more was when she appeared on the paddock four years later…
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1
note; requested ! mix of smau + written ! also one of the tweets was supposed to say 2017-2020 instead of 2016-2020 lol
word count; 700
masterlist !
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“Arabella, Angelina! Wait up!” Y/n exclaims as the nearly 4-year-olds run towards a familiar man clad in skinny jeans and a Red Bull shirt. She ignored the cameras on her and recorded as she ran across the paddock with heels to chase after her twin daughters.
“Papa!” The eldest of the two, Arabella, exclaims when she sees her father surrounded by a group of other drivers.
“Bella! Angel!” Max loudly exclaims, stepping back from the conversation to crouch down to the level of his daughters. Arabella wrapped her arms around him and Angelina quickly followed. The Dutch driver kissed their rosy cheeks as they giggled at their father's actions.
“You both look very pretty.” He said, pulling away for a moment.
“Mama dress us,” Angelina said in a softer voice compared to Arabella’s shout.
Y/n appeared moments later and was clearly out of breath from chasing the two. “Your daughters don’t listen, Verstappen. I cannot chase after them in heels.” She said out of breath, not noticing the shocked yet happy looks from the drivers.
“Oh my goodness, is that Arabella and Angelina?”
A familiar voice caused the two blonde girls to look up. “Uncle Lew!” The youngest, Angelina, exclaimed as she escaped from her father's grasp to hug the Mercedes driver.
Lewis was quick to scoop her up into his arms as Arabella also gave him a tight hug. He was Angelina’s favorite uncle, but Arabella’s favorite was actually his future teammate.
“Wow, you two are getting big!” Charles exclaimed, picking up Arabella who let out a laugh. “How old are you girls now?”
“Almost four!” The eldest replied as she held up her 4 fingers.
“Wow, Y/n, I’m surprised you actually came,” Lando said with a chuckle as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
They all knew the truth of why she retired. It was because she was 3 months pregnant with twins. Although she kept it a secret from the public, she was always close with the grid hence why they weren’t shocked about the twins but more so shocked that she’s back on the paddock.
“About time the twins know the paddock,” Y/n replied with a smile, watching the twins chat with their favorite uncles. “Plus, it’s nice to be back. It’s been ages. The girls should also know how cool their mama was.”
“Was? She still is.” Max corrected her.
“Yeah, but Mama doesn’t race anymore.”
“Mama drive with you?” Angelina asked Lewis. He let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling as he glanced at Y/n.
“Yeah, and she was a great teammate. But be careful, Y/n, Toto might convince you to replace me.”
His words caused her to laugh as she shook her head. “Gee, no thanks. These girls are tough to handle on their own. I don’t know if I could handle racing on top of that.” She sighs, reaching over to fix Angelina’s messy blonde curls.
“These babies? Difficult? Angelina and Arabella are angels!” Charles said in an exaggerated tone as he squeezed Arabella tightly.
Y/n leans in close to Charles and glances at Max, “Between you and me, they take after their father.”
“Hey!” The Dutch driver exclaimed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means go get ready for the race.”
At the reminder of the race, Lewis and Charles set the twins down and quickly said goodbye to also prepare. The rest of the drivers soon followed leaving the family of 4 alone.
Max turned to the smiley twins who stared at their favorite uncles walk away. His eyebrows furrowed up as he looked at Y/n who just let out a chuckle while shaking her head.
He focused back on the twins and crouched down again. “How about a hug and a kiss for your papa?” He suggested. The twins didn’t have to be told twice and were quick to run back into their fathers arms, each giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Papa, you win okay?” Arabella demanded as Angelina nodded in agreement. Max laughs, giving his daughters one last tight squeeze.
“If I win for you both and for Mama, we can have ice cream for dinner. How does that sound?”
His deal caused the two girls to cheer in excitement as Y/n sighed again. “You’re dealing with their sugar rush, Verstappen.”
“Not if I’m a race winner!”
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liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and others !
yourusername: the girls loved seeing their papa win! ( but they loved seeing their favorite uncles more! ) congratulations on another win, my love! we’re all proud💗
tagged; maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1: i don’t like how they were looking at lewis and charles….
yourusername: they take after their father! they like pretty drivers 😁 especially angelina, she is team merc like her mama🙈
maxverstappen1: team merc? she’s all yours!
username: tears the twins are just like me fr
maxverstappen1: i love you❤️liked by yourusername !
username: MOTHER RETURNED AND SHE’S A FR MOTHER??
username: SHES BACKKK
username: she looks so good as a mom🥰🥰
username: SHE WAS DATING MAX THIS WHOLEEEE TIME??
username: bye so the baby f1 rumor was true except it was twins and w MAX???
carmenmmundt: such sweethearts 🥹🥹
francisca.cgomes: i know! such cuties💗
yourusername: ugh they love their auntie carmen & kika! they keep asking about you both😅💓
username: stoppp you guys rmbr when she said her biggest dream was becoming a mother 🥹🥹🥹
username: in her merc days💔💔 i love seeing her dream come true 🙁
lewishamilton: best part of this weekend was seeing the coolest gals on the paddock😎
yourusername: angelina won’t take her 44 merc hat off!!
charles_leclerc: my favorite verstappen are the twins
maxverstappen1: woah now….
yourusername: ( arabella is secretly team ferrari )
maxverstappen1: WHAT
username:will i get over this? no!
username: i am SHOCKED
username: from her party girl rookie era to being a mother, wow i love y/n🥹
mercedesamgf1: we miss the princess of the paddock!🩵
yourusername: and i miss my merc crew🤍
redbullracing: welcome arabella and angelina to the red bull crew! ❤️ liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1 !
username: in her birkin mom era
username: mother truly is mothering 😩😩
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churipu · 9 months
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Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33
JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)
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featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader
warnings. jjk men being softies
note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.
and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.
toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?
meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.
toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.
so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.
face, money, strength. none of that.
he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.
then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.
on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.
"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."
"maybe."
and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.
toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.
"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."
"toji, what? where did that come from?"
his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.
"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.
"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.
"i just think so."
"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.
"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."
just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.
you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?
"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.
toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.
"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"
"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.
"why out of the blue?"
"jus' because."
you poked his cheek, "liar."
he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."
you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"
he hums softly.
"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.
"yeah."
"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.
"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.
"i know so."
GOJO SATORU
he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.
gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.
the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.
but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.
he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.
gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.
"why are you so upset?"
"i'm just..curious."
"it's none of your business."
he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.
"what?"
"who was that guy?"
"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"
"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"
gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.
"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.
in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.
"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.
"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?
"why?"
"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.
NANAMI KENTO
he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.
nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.
at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.
but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.
"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.
nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."
nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.
but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.
it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.
if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.
but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.
"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.
"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.
so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.
but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.
"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."
"thank you y/n."
mutual wins.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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honeyedmiller · 1 year
Text
Ring | Joel Miller
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pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader
warnings: tommy’s being a little shit lol, marriage, reader is unintentionally oblivious for a bit, no outbreak, reader is depicted to be shorter than joel, au where ellie is joel and reader’s adopted daughter but she’s only very briefly mentioned, smut (bathroom quickie), slight jealousy, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.
word count: 2k
synopsis: Tommy teases Joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your ring.
quick one shot in honor of 700 followers??? oh my god?? i love u all sm thank you!!!
this was honestly kinda poorly written. forgive me :’)
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“Hey big brother, what’s up with you and your girl?” Tommy asks, brows furrowed as he leans up against the counter next to Joel.
“Hell are ya talkin’ about, Tommy?” Joel continues to chop onions for the barbecue you guys were throwing today.
“Are you guys, I dunno, having marriage problems?” Tommy quirks a brow, and Joel halts his movements. He sets the knife down on the counter while averting his gaze up to his brother, expression clearly displaying pure annoyance.
Tommy might’ve bugged the shit out of Joel, but he knew he had good intentions. So why the hell would he be asking this?
“What makes you say that?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest now, waiting for Tommy to spew some bullshit at him.
“She’s not wearin’ her ring.” Tommy shrugs, and Joel’s permanent furrowed brow lines deepen even further.
“The hell she ain’t. She always wears her ring.” Joel argues back.
“Go see for yourself big brother.” Tommy gestures outside, where Joel pushes past him and slides open the glass door to find you at the cooler talking with some random new guy from the neighborhood. Joel noticed that he was trying to flirt with you, and being the naturally kindhearted and welcoming person you were, you didn’t catch on.
Joel also noticed that Tommy was right—you weren’t wearing your ring.
If there was one thing that Joel learned from you over the years you’ve been together and three years married, it was how to properly communicate his feelings. He used to be so closed off and would bottle everything up, letting stuff bother him until he became so distant.
You weren’t having any of that, though, so you sat him down one day and told him that you needed proper communication between you both. You were a saint with Joel, being so patient and kind to him as he was trying to unlearn his previous ways of shutting himself out from everyone around him when he didn’t exactly know how to communicate something.
Some days were harder than others, but ever the sweetheart you are, you never rushed him or got irritated when he couldn’t exactly seem to form his words to you. You just held him and kissed him repeatedly, letting him know it was okay and he could take his time.
This time around, he didn’t seem to have a single bit of a problem telling you what he was feeling. So, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your temple to show the man that was so clearly interested in you that you were taken.
“Hey darlin’.” Joel rasps into your ear, kissing your shoulder afterward.
“Hey baby. This is Dominic. He’s new to the neighborhood. Dominic, this is my husband, Joel.”
Joel sported a shit-eating grin when Dominic’s body went rigid at the word husband. Joel stuck his hand out to him, and Dominic apprehensively shook his hand. Joel’s grip was firmer than it regularly was, and Dominic flinched in the slightest.
“Thanks for keeping my beautiful wife some company while I got stuff ready for the grill.” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and you looked up at him with a quirked brow.
He offered you a tight-lipped smile when his gaze met yours, clearing his throat. “Can I steal you for a minute, baby?” He asks, arms possessively wrapping around your frame. You nod, confused as to why Joel was acting a bit strange suddenly.
He intertwines your hand with his, and you excuse yourself from Dominic as Joel led you into the house and up to your bedroom.
“What’s this about, Joel?” You question as he closes the bedroom door, locking it behind him.
“Where’s your wedding ring at, baby?” He asks, looking down at you. A glint of something flashes across his eyes, but you couldn’t put your finger on what.
“‘S in my jewelry box. I didn’t wanna lose it helping around the backyard today or swimming if I did, so I knew it would be safe in there instead. Why?” Your curiosity is piqued.
Joel slowly maneuvers himself past you and over to your jewelry box, opening the top of it to firstly find your wedding ring neatly placed.
He takes the ring out of the jewelry box and walks over to you, grabbing your left hand to slip it onto your ring finger once more. Right where it belongs, perfectly fitted. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly.
“Tommy’s bein’ a little shit, as always. Came into the kitchen with assumptions that we were having ‘marriage problems’ because you weren’t wearing your ring.” He tsked, shaking his head.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed.
“Y’gotta stop letting Tommy get into your head, J. I love you, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him, and his lips curled up in the slightest.
“I know baby, I just can’t help but feel jealous when I see another man flirting with my woman.”
“Jealous? Of who?” You were puzzled at Joel’s confession, resting a steady hand on his warm chest.
“That new neighbor. Dylan or whatever the fuck his name is.” Joel spat.
You had no idea Dominic was even flirting with you. You thought he was just being friendly. Fuck, maybe Joel was right. Maybe you are oblivious sometimes.
You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips envelope yours. One hand of his is splayed over the small of your back while the other rests on the outside of your thigh, rubbing small circles into your exposed skin. The dress you were wearing today was just another distraction for Joel and a reminder that he needed to behave himself or else the whole neighborhood would hear you saying his name like a prayer on Sunday morning.
Joel’s cock stirred at the thought, and he groaned into the kiss. You pulled apart from him and moved your hands down to his chest again.
“C’mon cowboy, people are gonna wonder where we’re at.” You grin, going to the bedroom door to unlock it. You were about halfway down the hallway before Joel tugged you into the bathroom on your right side.
“They can wait.” He closed the door and pressed you up against it, locking the lock before smashing his lips to yours.
There was so much hunger behind his kiss. You felt slick start to pool onto your panties, the want in your core licking a flame up your body. You moan into the kiss, gripping the back of his head to mold yourself even further into him. It was nothing but teeth clashing, lips smacking, and fervor for one another as the kiss continued.
“Gotta make this quick, babydoll.” Joel finally broke the kiss as you softly whined, and he turned you around to move you in front of the wide mirror. You met his gaze through the reflection, nothing but hunger in his eyes.
He lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down your legs in one swift motion. His middle finger wasted no time in collecting the slick arousal between your legs, causing you to moan softly.
“Always so ready for me, baby.” Joel chuckled darkly as he brought his middle finger up to suck your arousal off of it. He looked you right into the reflection of your eyes as he did so. The sight was nearly pornographic.
You bite your lip and plead with your eyes; please please please just fuck me, Joel.
His middle finger made its way back down to your slick cunt before he pushed it into you, pumping languidly. He curled his thick finger to hit the spot that drove you wild, and you found yourself gripping onto the counter for dear life. You decided, though, that his finger just wasn’t enough in this moment.
“Please, J. I need you.”
“Need you too, baby.” Joel got the message clear as day, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper and jeans button in record time, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. His painful erection sprung free, and he lined himself up with your throbbing, aching cunt.
He easily found home in you as he sunk to the hilt, groaning at how good you felt around him.
“Be a good girl for me and tell me who you belong to.” Joel’s voice was dark, teetering on the line of possessive. You found it hot, though.
“Y-Yours, Joel. ‘M all yours.” You can barely say your words as he starts to rock his hips, deliciously stretching you out every time his hips collided with your ass.
“That’s it, baby, mine. No one else’s. Perfect little pussy is mine, you’re mine, mine.” He gritted into your hair, pulling you back against him by your waist as he rocked his hips up into you. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, moaning his name softly.
“Gotta be quiet, baby, can’t have anyone hearin’ us now.” Joel kissed you sloppily to hide your lewd moans, hips snapping up into you.
“Fuck, Joel, feel s’good.” Your words start to mesh together like you’re absolutely cock drunk.
Joel bends you back down over the sink and gently wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look up into the mirror as he pounds into you from behind.
“So fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ me so well, sweet girl. Been teasin’ me with this little dress on all day.” Joel lets go of your throat and slides his hand down to your front, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions.
You barely have time to process that your body is about to give into Joel’s expert touch. You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw falling completely slack as you let out an accidental loud moan. Joel didn’t even stop you that time, because he himself was already on the brink of an orgasm.
“Cum with me, my love.” Joel groans into your ear. You both let go and just let it happen, praying that the music playing in the backyard is loud enough to cover your wanton moans as you both come down from your orgasms. Joel was reluctant to move out of you at first, but he couldn’t take the way you were clenched down on him anymore.
You were so fucking intoxicating and if it were his choice, he’d gladly be buried into your sweet, warm cunt all of the time.
Reality trickled back in around you both as he pulled out of you with a groan, both breathless and panting. After readjusting and redressing himself, he grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet above the toilet and wet it, wiping down the excess of his remnants on the apex of your inner thighs. He planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, pulling your panties up on you as he stood back up.
He helped fix your hair and readjusted you so you looked almost completely normal, albeit your face felt hot and you had a post-fuck look on your face.
He brought you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your hair.
“I love you, baby.” He murmurs softly, rocking you for a minute.
“I love you too.” Your reached your left hand up to hook onto his forearm that was wrapped around you, giving it a squeeze. Your ring glinted in the sunlight that pooled into the bathroom window, and Joel smiled happily.
“We’ll continue this later tonight, baby. Maybe Sarah and Ellie can spend the night at a friend’s house tonight.”
Your lips curl into a smile at his suggestion, and you lean up to kiss his cheek.
“Let’s get back out to the party.” He pats your ass and opens the door, coming out after you. You make your way down the stairs, Joel hot on your trail.
Tommy gives Joel a knowing look of ‘I know exactly what you two were up to.’
Joel scoffs at Tommy and grumbles as he moves past his younger brother.
“Marriage problems my ass.”
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tag list: @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana
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6okuto · 5 months
Text
A LITTLE WHILE LONGER
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gn!reader | atsumu parent au, 700 words of silly fluff(?) Unless u think about growing up too much.
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“’tsumu? what’s wrong? why’re you crying?” you put your keys in your pocket, eyes focused on atsumu who’s leaning his head back on the couch, blinking away tears and wiping his cheeks.
he huffs, turning away as if you wouldn’t be able to hear him sniffling. “’m not cryin’!”
“makoto,” you call your daughter who’s sitting with her back to you. “what happened—oh my god, why’re you both crying?”
she looks over her shoulder, and you catch her phone and crumpled tissues in her hands. they look at you with the same pout and loud denial—“we’re not crying!”
the echo is an unconventional comfort—‘we’ enough to tell you that nobody’s said or done any real damage. makoto brings her legs up to sit cross-legged in her chair, grabbing the pillow from behind her to her lap, and you look at your husband. “atsumu.”
his still red eyes snap toward you and his jaw drops, voice filled with hoarse betrayal, “what?! why’re ya lookin’ at me? ‘t’s her fault!”
your daughter gasps and throws her pillow at his chest. “dad!”
atsumu catches it with ease. “makoto!”
“guys.”
stopped before one of them can pick up another pillow, the pair sit back in their seats, this time atsumu holding the pillow up to his chin. makoto sniffles as she unlocks her phone. “here.”
when you walk over and she passes it to you, it’s set to the front camera with some sort of filter waiting to start. you furrow your brows and look to her for explanation.
“it’s an ageing filter—dad started crying when he saw what i’d look like when i get old.”
she sniffles once more, and something in your chest softens. you look toward atsumu who, as if he could feel your gaze, looks away from the corner of the room back to you. his cheeks match his eyes, and he tries to stop what he knows is going to happen, “don’t you—”
“awww.”
“babe,” the whine is immediate as he slouches into the couch.
you only snicker as you hand makoto her phone back, and make your way to him with a smile and arms wide open. despite everything, he straightens, leans toward you and your touch. his head rests against your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair. (you think makoto says “ew” behind you.)
“’tsumu, you big softie,” you tease.
he scoffs weakly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “she’s crying too!”
“am not.”
atsumu peaks his head from around you. “are too, y’liar.”
“i’ve never cried in my life,” makoto denies, a rasp in her words.
the blond in your arms scoffs again. “tell that t’me when you were 7 and crying ’cause y’stepped on a ladybug by accident.”
makoto gasps. “her name was milly, you monster.”
you snort, turning to look at your daughter. “sorry to milly, now stop fighting. family hug time, c’mere.”
and even as they stick their tongues out at each other, they both stand so you can wrap your arms around them, and atsumu quietly plants a kiss to both of your heads. you mumble with a smile, “love you guys.”
“love you too.”
“love you. and you are never growing up.”
“biologically impossible.”
“don’t care, you’re eight now.”
“what—eight?!”
the hug breaks, and you sigh dramatically, atsumu pulling makoto into a headlock you know she could get out of in seconds, even while she laughs.
“eight.”
“why can’t i stay seventeen?”
“numbers don’t go that high for ya anymore.”
“then what’re you?”
“a young and handsome twenty-four year old.”
“ya wish, old man!”
walking away, you call out, “i’m gonna get dinner started, don’t break anything!”
makoto’s “thank you!” is followed by atsumu’s “we won’t!”, and the bittersweet ache in your bones at the thought of your family getting older is soothed by the sound of laughter from the living room, a reminder it'll be you all together, for at least a while longer.
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girl dad atsumu who loves and spoils his daughter to bits is so real but also It's Atsumu.. The Miyas... i thought it'd be nice 2 see her picking up more of his personality + them being silly 🙂‍↕️ (these kinds of relationships r so endearing 2 me 😭🩷) everypony knows they love each other soo much even while they're 'fighting' and accusing the other of cheating at mario kart or whatever LOL.
was gonna make tsumu point out makoto crying at the thought of Him getting old btw but then i would've taken longer to Pack This Up and also had to deal with ME thinking about MY parents so here we are 🫡
@pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv_rose @ur-local-simp @respitable haii my tag list i forgot i had u for a while there. and u guys too @reverie-starlight @dira333 haii friends i hope u are all doing awesome! 🫵🩷
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f1daydreamers · 12 days
Text
𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔
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gif credits: @trenty
Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader
Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.
A/N: 700 followers is insaneeee and sm more than i acc thought id ever get so thank you so much! f1 and/or football fans, i love u all so much ugh ALSO if ur wondering why this chapter is longer than my lifespan it’s bcos u guys deserve it for being so patient and accept it as my dearest apology xxx
Warnings: a lot of fluff actually, casual banter, a lot of coffee mentions for some fkn reason lmfao, swearing probably
Word Count: 4.9k words (18 mins reading avg)
...
You push open the door to the training pitch, the cool breeze brushing against your face as you step outside, searching for Wataru.
The headache that’s been plaguing you all morning tightens its grip, and the fresh scent of the grass seems almost too intense. You rub your forehead, trying to ease the tension while scanning the field.
Across the pitch, Trent catches your eye, his movements fluid and graceful as he makes a pass. The ball connects with his boot in a way that’s almost poetic, the sound sharp and precise.
What usually feels like music to your ears now drives another spike of pain through your already throbbing head. You wince, pressing your fingers more firmly against your temples.
Finally, you spot Wataru near the edge of the pitch, zipping up his jacket while observing the players. As you approach, he looks up, concern immediately crossing his face as he takes in your weary appearance.
“Morning, Y/N,” he greets, his voice laced with worry. “Rough start?”
You manage a tired smile that feels more like a grimace. “Yeah, not the best morning. Overslept, skipped breakfast, and now this headache won’t quit.”
Wataru nods, his concern deepening. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. We can cancel if you need.”
Leaning against the wall beside him, you try to relieve some of the pressure on your aching body. “Thanks, but I’ll be alright. Just.. not exactly firing on all cylinders this morning.”
A quiet settles over you as you both watch the players go through their drills.
Trent sends a perfect cross into the box, and you can’t help but remark, “at least someone’s got their energy today.”
The usual lively atmosphere - the rhythmic thud of the ball, the shouts of encouragement, the bursts of laughter - feels like an assault on your senses. Each kick sends another ripple of pain through your skull, deepening the throbbing.
Wataru notices the way your shoulders tense with each sharp noise and is about to speak when you take a deep breath, pushing off the wall and forcing steadiness into your voice.
“I’ll be upstairs,” you say softly. “When you’re ready to start, just let me know.”
He nods, understanding clear in his eyes. “Take your time, Y/N. No rush.”
You offer a grateful smile before turning to head back inside. Each step is a conscious effort to stay composed. The quiet of the training centre seems more inviting than ever, a much-needed refuge from the relentless pounding in your head.
...
"Long night?" Trent remarked as he spotted Wataru holding two cups of coffee. His brows furrowed in mild surprise, though his tone remained light as he gestured toward the cups.
Wataru chuckled and shook his head. “Not for me. One of these is for Y/N.”
Trent’s expression shifted slightly, his brows relaxing as he nodded. “Oh.”
“She mentioned she skipped breakfast,” Wataru explained, “so I thought coffee might help.”
Trent glanced at the black coffee in Wataru’s hand, steam rising from the cup. His face remained neutral, but there was a subtle twitch at the corner of his lips before he spoke again.
“She doesn’t drink it black,” Trent said matter-of-factly.
Wataru blinked in surprise, glancing down at one of the cups. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah,” Trent replied, trying to sound casual. He looked away, his voice quiet but with a slight edge.
“You might want to add some milk and a bit of sweetener. I’ve never seen her drink it.. like that.”
“Ah, thanks,” Wataru said, giving him a nod as the coffee machine hummed in the background.
Trent responded with a curt nod of his own, the awkwardness of the moment settling over him.
As he waited for the machine to finish, he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that’d crept up on him.
Finally, he poured himself a cup, his movements deliberate but distracted.
He never assumed he knew your coffee preferences, but the fact that he actually did only disturbed him.
Wataru exited the canteen, but Trent remained standing in his place, staring down at his cup. The liquid swirling as he gave it a half-hearted stir, his mind lost in thought.
He’d been trying to keep his distance from you, aiming to stay focused on his own routines. You were just another face at the training centre, someone there to do a job like everyone else.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
So why had he noticed how you took your coffee? Why did it matter to him?
The thought nagged at him, making him feel off balance. He didn’t like it.
He didn’t like that he was starting to notice these little things about you, almost as if he was beginning to care. It made him feel uneasy, like he was losing his grip on the boundaries he’d set for himself.
He shook his head, wiping the bottom of the spoon on the rim of his cup before setting it down on the tray.
The nagging sensation in his chest made him feel vulnerable, and Trent Alexander-Arnold wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable. He was supposed to be focused, dedicated, with his head in the game and his heart firmly off the field.
He took a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste barely registering as he tried to shake off the uncomfortable thought.
The truth was, he’d been noticing you for a while now.
The way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the determination with which you threw yourself into your work - it was hard to ignore.
And he’d been trying to push those thoughts away, shoving them into the back of his mind where they couldn’t distract him.
But every now and then, they crept back in, uninvited and unwelcome.
He let out a deep breath and finally decided to move. He followed the same route Wataru had taken just a few minutes earlier.
As he stepped out of the canteen, he saw his teammate engaged in conversation with one of the backroom staff, overhearing snatches of words like "reschedule" and "now."
His attention drifted as he passed by, noticing Ibou absorbed in what looked like cricket highlights playing on the TV. Yet his mind was still clouded, so much so that he barely noticed when his name was called.
“Trent!” The voice cut through the haze, pulling him back to the present. He turned to see Wataru waving him over, his expression a mix of urgency and apology.
He hesitated for a moment before walking over, his footsteps heavy. “What’s up?” He asked, aiming to sound casual.
Wataru glanced at the staff member, then back at him. “I’ve got to go see Arne,” he said, his voice low. “Can you do me a favour?”
Trent raised an eyebrow, half-expecting to be asked to cover a training session or run an errand. “Depends,” he said slowly.
He saw Wataru’s gaze shift to the coffee cups in his hands, and he felt his stomach sink. A chorus of silent ‘no no no’s’ echoed in his mind, ignored by whatever higher powers may've been listening.
Wataru hesitated for a moment, a conflicted look on his face, before finally holding one of the cups out to him. “Do you mind taking this up to Y/N for me?”
Trent hesitated, frowning. “Can’t someone else do it?”
The faces of the two men standing opposite him twisted into mild confusion, as if that was the last response they expected.
"It won’t take you long."
His eyes flickered over. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to get involved. The last thing he needed was to play delivery boy, especially for you.
He was about to refuse again when he saw the concern in Wataru’s eyes. With a resigned sigh, he took the cup.
“Fine,” he grumbled.
Wataru’s face broke into a grateful but meek smile. He hurried off, leaving Trent to stare down at the cup in his hand, feeling a mix of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite name.
He headed toward the stairs, his steps slow, each one weighed down by the internal debate raging in his head.
He could just throw it out.
The thought crossed his mind almost immediately.
Dump the coffee and be done with it. You’d never know. And then he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of seeing you.
But then again, Wataru would find out. He’d ask you about the coffee later, and if it never made it to you, Trent would have to come up with some kind of excuse.
Wataru might be easygoing, but he wasn’t dumb. Trent didn’t need anyone questioning him, especially over something as trivial as a cup of coffee.
He gripped the cup tighter, feeling the warmth seep through the paper. It’d be so easy to turn around, head back to the kitchen, and pour it down the sink.
Out of sight, out of mind.
He could almost picture it - the splash of tan liquid spinning down the drain, washing his hands of this whole situation.
But then there was the part of him that knew better, the part that had been growing louder lately. The part that remembered the way you looked this morning, rubbing your temples, the pain etched across your face.
He made his way down the hallway, taking the stairs one at a time until he stood outside your door.
He hesitated, he hated this strange, unfamiliar urge to do something nice for someone here. And for you, of all people.
It was annoying, unsettling.
Realising both hands were full, he resorted to tapping the toe of his trainer against the wooden door, three quick thuds echoing through the corridor.
Silence.
He clicked his tongue in frustration and tried again, tapping harder.
Still nothing.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered, irritation lacing his words.
As he stood there, a familiar figure sauntered down the corridor. Harvey noticed Trent’s growing agitation and, with a smirk, made his way over to investigate.
“What are you doing?” Harvey asked, his accented voice dripping with amusement. His eyes shifted from Trent’s face to the coffee cups, then to the trainer tapping rhythmically against the door.
“I’m knocking, genius,” Trent replied, his voice edged with sarcasm. He let out a sigh through his nose, tipping his head back slightly as Harvey's eyes flickered between him and the door.
“Since when do you ever knock?” Harvey questioned, eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.
Trent’s mouth opened to retort, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but he was right. He never knocked.
A beat of silence passed before Trent jerked his chin toward the door. “Get the door for me, yeah?”
Harvey grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “I kinda wanna see how long you’ll keep this up,” he teased, his tone light.
Trent shot him a glare, though the corners of his mouth twitched with reluctant amusement.
“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.” Harvey chuckled, relenting. He stepped forward, pressing down on the handle and pushing the door open.
Trent manoeuvred through the doorway, using the back of his shoulder to nudge it open the rest of the way, careful not to spill the coffee. He cast a sidelong glance at his friend, who leaned against the door frame with a smirk.
“See? Was that so hard?” Harvey quipped, his tone dripping with amusement.
“Yeah, yeah,” Trent muttered, rolling his eyes.
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. Everything in your office looked untouched, as if you'd entered and gone straight to your desk. You were slumped over, head resting in one hand, elbow propped up on the wooden surface.
Either you’d fallen asleep, or...
“Is she dead?” Harvey asked.
"Here's hoping.” Trent mumbled in response.
He took a step closer, clearing his throat softly, but you remained oblivious.
Trent’s gaze flickered around the room, his usual composure faltering as he took in your dishevelled state. Despite his attempts to remain detached, seeing you like this stirred something deep within him that he couldn’t quite ignore.
With a sigh, he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the unease that had settled over him. He carefully placed the coffee on the desk beside you, his movements deliberate.
Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your shirt as if testing the waters.
When you remained unresponsive, he mustered the courage to place his full hand on your shoulder and gave you a gentle shake.
“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “I’ve got your coffee.”
You stirred, lifting your head and blinking groggily. He removed his hand, straightening his back.
“Trent?” You mumbled, still half-asleep. The smell of the coffee faintly registered in your mind. “You didn’t have to..”
He shrugged, attempting to sound casual. “Wataru asked me to bring it up. And, well..” He glanced at you, feeling an unfamiliar tug of something he couldn’t quite name. “I figured you might need it.”
You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. I really do.”
As he was about to leave, he noticed the pile of paperwork cluttered next to your computer, the chaos suggesting you’d been battling through it despite your headache.
“I, uh..” His voice faltered slightly. “Need any help with that?“
You were about to reply when Harvey’s voice cut in, disbelief evident in his tone. “You’re offering to help?”
Trent shifted uncomfortably, his back still turned to Harvey as he rolled his eyes. You caught the movement and chuckled softly.
“Not offering. Just—” He turned to see Harvey’s amused expression and added hastily, “—just making sure she's not swamped. Is that a crime?”
Harvey shrugged, crossing his arms. “Not at all. Just didn’t think you had it in you.”
Trent picked up half of the stack, maybe more, his actions earnest but guarded.
You watched him with a mix of gratitude and surprise, taking a sip of the coffee and feeling the soothing warmth begin to ease your headache.
Harvey raised an eyebrow, still leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see the day Trent Alexander-Arnold played the hero.”
Trent’s lips curled into a slight smile, his cheeks reddening as he held up a stack of papers toward Harvey. “Want to help?”
Harvey raised his hands in mock surrender, pushing himself off the doorframe. “I’ll leave you two to it. Have fun, lovebirds.”
As he departed, your cheeks warmed slightly, but you quickly shifted your focus to your inbox. An email from Arne caught your eye at the top, informing you that your session with Wataru had been rescheduled.
You exhaled, thinking, I slept through it anyway.
Trent, meanwhile, had sunk onto the couch, peeling off the top sheet of the document. He placed the remaining papers neatly on the cabinet beside him and studied the single sheet in his hand with a skeptical frown.
The bold black text at the top seemed to glare back at him: "For Liverpool FC Staff Only."
He paused, his fingers grazing the corner of the page. "I can read these, right?"
You glanced over, a small smile touching your lips as you met his gaze. “Yeah, they're just things I need to acknowledge I've read,” you said with a casual shrug, your voice carrying a hint of nonchalance.
Trent tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he flipped the document over. “Seems a bit counter-productive, though,” he remarked.
“Not really. I never actually read them,” you explained nonchalantly.
A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “And here I thought you were all about dedication to your job,” he said, his voice trailing off with a mocking edge.
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, picking up your coffee cup again after dragging the stack of remaining papers closer.
“I am dedicated,” you replied with a hint of a smile, “but finance just doesn’t interest me. I skim.”
He hummed, his eyes scanning the text.
You paused before starting on your work, glancing over at Trent. “Anything important, just make sure you tell me.”
Trent looked up, his expression blank but his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What if I want to skim read?”
You smiled, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to the papers. “Shut up, Trent.”
His gaze lingered on you, a smirk playing at his lips as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally looked away, his smile widening just slightly.
...
The soft shuffle of papers and the occasional scratch of your pen had become a rhythmic background noise in the room.
Your headache had lessened thanks to the coffee and the company, but the stack of paperwork in front of you still felt like an endless mountain.
As you reached the final couple of documents, you heard Trent stand up from the couch.
You looked over just in time to see him stretching his arms above his head, the motion causing his shirt to lift slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin beneath.
You swallowed, instinctively folding your lips inwards as your eyes lingered for a moment too long.
He was an athlete, after all, so naturally, he was fit, as any athlete would be. But seeing it up close stirred something in you that you quickly tried to dismiss.
He caught your glance, and instead of saying anything, Trent poked his tongue into his cheek, clearly holding back a remark.
His lips pressed together in a restrained smirk, like he was biting back a teasing comment. He didn’t want to overstep, especially in the middle of a setting like this one, and God forbid he came across like he’d noticed too much.
Your face grew warm, and you immediately redirected your attention back to the papers in front of you, pretending to scan over the same paragraph you had just read.
But the words on the page were a blur, the previous focus you had was gone, and all you could feel was your heart beating a little too fast, a bit too aware of his presence nearby.
He placed the now neatly organised stack of papers he had been working on back onto your desk. “These just need your signature now,” he said, his voice casual, but you could sense a hint of satisfaction.
You raised an eyebrow. “You finished all of them?”
He nodded, unfazed. He pulled out a folded A4 paper from his pocket.
“I made a note.. of everything that was important.” His fingers unfolded the paper to reveal messy, scribbled handwriting - a far cry from the neat, printed reports you were used to seeing.
But the gesture behind it was unexpectedly sweet.
You stared at the paper in his hand for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Trent, ever the enigma, had actually taken the time to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. His expression was calm, neutral even, but you knew deep down this was one of those moments he’d never let you thank him for.
“Thanks, Trent. That’s.. really thoughtful of you.” The words felt too light, not enough to fully express your gratitude, but you also knew him well enough to recognise that overpraising him would probably make him uncomfortable.
As expected, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of needing me for this stuff.”
You laughed softly, the sound light and refreshing. “I’ll try not to.”
There was a beat of silence before he shoved the note toward you, his eyes finally meeting yours for a brief second. "Make sure you check my notes, though. My handwriting’s a bit shit.”
You took the note from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.
“I’ll make sure to decipher it,” you teased lightly, glancing down at the paper covered in hurried scrawls.
As Trent turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at you. “Take it easy, Y/N. Can’t have you passing out on us.”
You nodded, cheeks flushed, as you fiddled with the paper between your fingers. The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a deep breath.
The room suddenly felt quieter, emptier, but your mind wasn’t letting go. You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on the documents in front of you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him - his quiet gestures, the sarcastic remarks, the infuriating smirks.
It was maddening how easily he got under your skin, how a simple glance could set your pulse racing.
Then, the memory played again in your mind, torturously vivid - the door shutting, the way he'd looked at you before leaving.
But then it hit you. Y/N.
Your mouth parted, breath hitching as the realisation dawned. He’d said your name.
For the first time, it wasn’t “psychologist.” It was your actual name.
Since you’d started here, you hadn't noticed how much that label created a barrier, a distance. Now, the memory of him saying your name replayed on a loop, breaking through that invisible wall.
You hadn’t realised how much you wanted to hear it from him.
Until now.
...
You were making your way down the hallway towards the cafeteria when you saw Wataru walking towards you. You exchanged polite smiles, a small gesture of recognition, as you passed by each other.
But something made you pause, and you turned back, calling after him.
“Wataru!” You said, a grateful grin crossing your face. He turned around, his eyes curious.
“Thanks for the coffee,” you added, your voice light with appreciation.
Wataru's smile widened as he slowed his pace. “Did Trent bring it up?” He asked, shifting his weight where he stood.
“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed.
“How’s the headache?” He asked, a soft concern in his tone.
“Gone,” you replied, your hand instinctively reaching up to run over the skin on your forehead. “Thanks to you.”
Wataru nodded, clearly pleased.
You studied him for a moment, your curiousity getting the best of you. You tilted your head ever so slightly and asked, “how did you know how I liked it? My coffee, I mean?”
He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard for a moment, then shook his head with a quiet laugh. “I didn’t,” he said plainly, his expression easy.
Your brow furrowed in confusion, your lips parting as you waited for him to explain further.
Wataru chuckled again and leaned in slightly, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. “Trent told me. Said you didn’t like it plain.”
Your heart skipped a beat, surprise flickering across your face. “Really?” You asked, your voice mellow with disbelief. “I didn’t know he knew that.”
Wataru smiled, watching the realisation dawn on you. “He’s an attentive boy,” he added with a nod, his tone thoughtful.
You blinked, processing his words. “Yeah,” you breathily replied, your brows lifting in agreement.
“Guess he is.”
...
Trent finished zipping up his thin jacket with a final click, the sound resonating softly as he shut the door to the vacant computer room behind him. He patted his pockets, making sure he had everything.
Across the hallway, you were locking your office door, your focus intent as you fumbled with the key.
Your eyes met at the exact same moment - yours lifting from the office door just as Trent’s eyes drifted from the closed computer room.
“Hey,” you greeted, a small, tired smile curving your lips.
Trent’s gaze flickered to your lips before settling back on your eyes, a subtle shift in his expression. “Hey,” he replied, his tone soft and casual, with an undertone of something more.
The corridor felt oddly intimate, the quiet hum of the lights and distant echoes were all you could hear. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, gently clearing your throat.
Trent massaged the back of his shoulder, having had to stare at a computer for a number of hours, a gesture that revealed his own weariness.
“Long day?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
“Yeah.” You nodded, briefly looking down before meeting his eyes again. “Caught up on some stuff with Wataru. And you?”
“Same,” Trent said with a small shrug, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. “Online seminar ran late.”
You stood there for a moment as the hallway seemed to close in around you, your small smiles communicating a quiet understanding.
“You heading out now?” Trent asked gently, his voice almost hesitant as if not wanting to break the moment.
“Yeah, just heading home. I'm assuming you're the same.” You replied, shifting your bag once more.
“Yep,” Trent said, his eyes meeting yours.
"Walk with me?" You tilted your head to the end of the hallway where the stairs led downstairs.
He looked over, swallowing as he nodded his head. "Sure."
You both turned, your shoulders grazing ever so slightly as you walked in what felt like a comfortable silence together, descending the stairs.
You walked side by side toward the building’s exit. Brian, stationed by the manually operated door on the same wall as the now-locked automatic ones, gave it a gentle push open.
"See you tomorrow, Brian." You expressed with a genuine smile, giving him a small wave.
"See you, love. Have a good night, son." He replied warmly.
"You too." Trent added.
He stepped aside though as he turned slightly, his body angled to give you clear passage. With a subtle sweep of his hand, he motioned for you to go ahead before him.
You slipped past, your back brushed lightly against his chest, the brief contact making your stomach flip in an instant.
The sensation caught you off guard, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. You felt like a schoolgirl again, every accidental touch with a crush igniting a fire in your limbs.
Crush? You blinked, shaking the thought out of your head quickly. Nope, nope. That’s not it.
You exhaled quietly, trying to steady yourself, looking back as Trent caught up beside you.
A brisk gust of wind whipped around you both. Instinctively, you tucked the loose strands of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear, crossing your arms over your chest to keep warm.
Trent shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his breath visible in the cold air.
“Getting colder,” you commented.
“No shit,” Trent agreed, his voice a bit strained against the chill. “Summer ended quick.”
"You can talk, you weren’t even in the country," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance.
Trent didn’t miss a beat, replying almost instantly, "you didn’t even work here then, how would you know?"
You opened your mouth to respond but hesitated, the words not quite forming in time. Trent noticed and grinned, his smugness unmistakable.
“Someone stalking my Insta?”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break out. “Please. You think you’re that interesting?”
Trent shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can’t blame ya. I mean, half the world’s got eyes on me.”
“Half the world, huh?” You shot back, arching a brow. “I didn’t realise your four friends counted as ‘half the world' now.”
He chuckled, tucking his chin deeper into his jacket. “Still more friends than you’ve got.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied smoothly, flashing a grin. “I’ve got friends, too. Just.. a bit more exclusive.”
“Exclusive, eh?” Trent said, his tone mock-serious.
"Mhm," you trailed off, smiling.
As you walked, your mind wandered back to earlier in the day, remembering how he’d said your name. It was brief, almost casual, but it had stuck with you. It had felt different, personal.
And now, it replayed in your head, over and over.
Without fully realising it, you broke the silence. “You said my name.”
Trent’s steps slowed as he processed your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “What?”
You looked down, cheeks flushed from the cold - or maybe something else. “When you left my office earlier, you called me by my name.”
Trent pressed his bottom lip up to his top as he thought back. “Pretty sure I’ve said your name before.”
“Not to me,” you said, glancing up at him with a hopeful look.
He tilted his head. “And why’s that so important?”
“Because.. it is,” you admitted, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “To me, it is.”
Trent's muscles relaxed as his eyes roved over your features. “The bar's in hell, huh?”
You laughed, the sound warm and genuine, cutting through the chill. You nudged his arm with your hand.
“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest to trap the heat.
You finally approached Trent’s car, and he turned to you with a nod before pressing the unlock button on his keys.
You watched as he walked closer to his car door and opened it. The quiet of the evening was interrupted by your voice, again.
“Thanks for the coffee,” you said, raising your voice slightly to cut through the wind.
Trent's lips twitched, biting his bottom one to hold back from taking any credit. “I didn’t make your coffee.”
“Don’t lie, Trent. It doesn’t suit you." You remarked, scrunching your nose and shaking your head.
For a moment, his eyes stayed on you, lingering with a soft intensity. You held his gaze, feeling an unspoken connection. The seconds stretched on as you both seemed to take in the moment, your heart racing slightly in the charged silence.
Trent eventually looked away, fiddling with the keys in his hand.
“Get out of the way before I run you over." He quipped, his voice lighthearted.
“Charming,” you retorted.
Trent shook his head, getting into his car.
You began walking towards the pedestrian gate, hearing the engine of his car start up as you turned to give him one last glance before starting your short walk home.
...
Part 7
Masterlist
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